English, not Science, lol....I'll stick with the example then. But we pretty much exhausted that "realization of place" topic in class already. I was kinda looking for other epiphanies.KEN-JENNINGS wrote:
Why not use your example? Or that since matter is neither created nor destroyed, that as humans we contain matter present at the start of the big bang, simply manipulated into cells that are able to support life and allow it to prosper.
Last edited by haffeysucks (2008-01-07 16:46:51)
ATG wrote:
My biggest epiphany was realizing that I could die and 99.999% of the world wouldn't notice. More than that.
Realizing that, I stopped trying to be everything to everybody and get the most out of my time here.
Last edited by haffeysucks (2008-01-07 16:54:10)
Last edited by ig (2008-01-07 16:54:30)
Jeez, that's pretty good too.ig wrote:
i got a dui, and realized that i needed to make a lot of changes in my lifestyle. i haven't driven drunk since then. i enrolled in college and got a job. (i was selling weed to make money when i was younger) i never thought something so shitty could turn out to be so good for me.
me being on probation led me to playing bf2 all day, and i found you guys here too
ATG's Epiphany and it's 7 pages ... interesting reading haffey ...haffeysucks wrote:
ATG wrote:
My biggest epiphany was realizing that I could die and 99.999% of the world wouldn't notice. More than that.
Realizing that, I stopped trying to be everything to everybody and get the most out of my time here.
Jesus, that almost sounds like it'll go over 2 pages...
I wish I could write as ATG and retell his story. But I'm concerned that will get me sent to Guidance (we have to write in the 1st person).Varegg wrote:
ATG's Epiphany and it's 7 pages ... interesting reading haffey ...haffeysucks wrote:
ATG wrote:
My biggest epiphany was realizing that I could die and 99.999% of the world wouldn't notice. More than that.
Realizing that, I stopped trying to be everything to everybody and get the most out of my time here.
Jesus, that almost sounds like it'll go over 2 pages...
Without having similar experiences i would still say a suicidal is the one that truly feels like the totally alone person amongst 6 billion other people ...haffeysucks wrote:
I wish I could write as ATG and retell his story. But I'm concerned that will get me sent to Guidance (we have to write in the 1st person).Varegg wrote:
ATG's Epiphany and it's 7 pages ... interesting reading haffey ...haffeysucks wrote:
Jesus, that almost sounds like it'll go over 2 pages...
That story's so strong now, I'm having a hard time concentrating on my own story.
The epiphany there is really how much others are affected by you, similar to "5 People You Meet in Heaven."ATG wrote:
Sometimes you just get tired of hurting.
Sometimes you get addicted to the hurt.
Sometimes you don't want to infect other people and start seeing suicide as a community service, which for some it would be.
Good so far?The bus came to a stop. I got off, got the mail, walked down the driveway, and opened the front door. The headline of the Redding Pilot read: “Baghdad - 12 dead in car bomb attack; including 4 Americans”. I walked upstairs, did a couple problems of my math homework, and took a nap. I was awoken by a loud call of “Dinner!”, presumably by my mother. I trudged down the stairs, still groggy from sleep. The television was playing the nightly 7:00 PM news. The reporter spoke to the camera: “The casualties in Iraq continue to increase…” My aunt was apparently over for dinner, and she was watching the news with us. She sighed. “News nowadays is so bland. There’s nothing new for them to talk about, so they keep on droning on about the war. I’m sick and tired of reading and watching all this Iraq war news.” She turned the TV off.
After we finished our dinner, I excused myself and headed upstairs. And that’s when they started to overwhelm me. The feelings of hopelessness, of misery, of despair. You see, a month earlier I had lost my girlfriend. The day after, I got involved in a fight at school, and nearly killed another student. He wasn’t dead, but he was paralyzed from the waist down. I was suspended for a month. My mom got me a job at the local gas station. I filled tanks. One day, I made the simple mistake of choosing the wrong grade of gas, and took a verbal beating from my manager. Blah, blah, blah, I’m whining, right? You’re sitting there saying, “Grow up.” How about if I told you about the fact that I nearly took my own life?
So there I was, sitting on the side of my bed. I held a kitchen knife I had pocketed from the kitchen counter in my left hand.
No, I'm making all this up. In the first person, but fictional.ig wrote:
did you really paralyze someone dude? wtf
My friend's dad thought the same thing, and my friend walked in to find his dad hanging from a balcony overlooking the entrance to their house.ATG wrote:
Sometimes you just get tired of hurting.
Sometimes you get addicted to the hurt.
Sometimes you don't want to infect other people and start seeing suicide as a community service, which for some it would be.
It's the complete opposite. Each one of us affects so many other pesons' lives; even though we may think we mean nothing, each of us means something to someone.CommieChipmunk wrote:
My friend's dad thought the same thing, and my friend walked in to find his dad hanging from a balcony overlooking the entrance to their house.ATG wrote:
Sometimes you just get tired of hurting.
Sometimes you get addicted to the hurt.
Sometimes you don't want to infect other people and start seeing suicide as a community service, which for some it would be.
Suicide is anything but a community service, but in the mind of someone suffering form depression, it often looks that way.
Last edited by haffeysucks (2008-01-07 18:34:35)
I meant as in child molesters or aspiring politicians. To them I say just shoot yourself now and good riddance.CommieChipmunk wrote:
My friend's dad thought the same thing, and my friend walked in to find his dad hanging from a balcony overlooking the entrance to their house.ATG wrote:
Sometimes you just get tired of hurting.
Sometimes you get addicted to the hurt.
Sometimes you don't want to infect other people and start seeing suicide as a community service, which for some it would be.
Suicide is anything but a community service, but in the mind of someone suffering form depression, it often looks that way.
Well, here it is. Short but rather strong I think. Credit goes out to all who posted, especially ATG, from whom I drew a lot of influence for the story from.The bus came to a stop. I got off, got the mail, walked down the driveway, and opened the front door. The headline of the Redding Pilot read: “Baghdad - 12 dead in car bomb attack; including 4 Americans”. I walked upstairs, did a couple problems of my math homework, and took a nap. I was awoken by a loud call of “Dinner!”, presumably by my mother. I trudged down the stairs, still groggy from sleep. The television was playing the nightly 7:00 PM news. The reporter spoke to the camera: “The casualties in Iraq continue to increase…” My aunt was apparently over for dinner, and she was watching the news with us. She sighed. “News nowadays is so bland. There’s nothing new for them to talk about, so they keep on droning on about the war. I’m sick and tired of reading and watching all this Iraq war news.” She turned the TV off.
After we finished our dinner, I excused myself and headed upstairs. And that’s when they started to overwhelm me. The feelings of hopelessness, of misery, of despair. You see, a month earlier I had lost my girlfriend. The day after, I got involved in a fight at school, and nearly killed another student. He wasn’t dead, but he was paralyzed from the waist down. I was suspended for a month. My mom got me a job at the local gas station. I filled tanks. One day, I made the simple mistake of choosing the wrong grade of gas, and took a verbal beating from my manager. Blah, blah, blah, I’m whining, right? You’re sitting there saying, “Grow up.” How about if I told you about the fact that I nearly took my own life?
So there I was, sitting on the side of my bed. I held a kitchen knife I had pocketed from the kitchen counter in my left hand. The phone rang. I heard a voice from downstairs yell, “Pick up the phone, it’s John!” I swore and picked up the phone. It turned out that John’s cousin had committed suicide. I saw myself doing the same thing, and in that instant, I dropped the knife and cried.
John spoke at his cousin’s funeral. “To others Dave was a father, he was a son, he was a brother, he was a nephew. But to me, he was a brother. Remember all the good times we had Dave. I’ll see you soon.” It was then I realized that each person, no matter how insignificant they may seem in this world of more than 6 billion other individuals, has an effect on every single one of us. To commit suicide, rather than being a community service, would cause an incredible amount of pain on so many others.
It’s not that I don’t think about suicide anymore. It’s just that after every episode, I think of the others.
Not bad for a short story haffey, but the real despair is lacking .... the total hopelessness seing no way out. Like the absence of what you where doing while working at the station, describe the feeling of people certainly being better of without you around them, like you don't really care what happened to the guy you paralyzed, the lack of emphasis for others seing as they apparantly have none for you ... the turning point with the other suicide i think is good, that may affect how you feel about things on the very edge of taking your own life - the wakeup call sort of coming during the speech at the funeral ... maybe elaborate a little more within the speech itself ...haffeysucks wrote:
Well, here it is. Short but rather strong I think. Credit goes out to all who posted, especially ATG, from whom I drew a lot of influence for the story from.The bus came to a stop. I got off, got the mail, walked down the driveway, and opened the front door. The headline of the Redding Pilot read: “Baghdad - 12 dead in car bomb attack; including 4 Americans”. I walked upstairs, did a couple problems of my math homework, and took a nap. I was awoken by a loud call of “Dinner!”, presumably by my mother. I trudged down the stairs, still groggy from sleep. The television was playing the nightly 7:00 PM news. The reporter spoke to the camera: “The casualties in Iraq continue to increase…” My aunt was apparently over for dinner, and she was watching the news with us. She sighed. “News nowadays is so bland. There’s nothing new for them to talk about, so they keep on droning on about the war. I’m sick and tired of reading and watching all this Iraq war news.” She turned the TV off.
After we finished our dinner, I excused myself and headed upstairs. And that’s when they started to overwhelm me. The feelings of hopelessness, of misery, of despair. You see, a month earlier I had lost my girlfriend. The day after, I got involved in a fight at school, and nearly killed another student. He wasn’t dead, but he was paralyzed from the waist down. I was suspended for a month. My mom got me a job at the local gas station. I filled tanks. One day, I made the simple mistake of choosing the wrong grade of gas, and took a verbal beating from my manager. Blah, blah, blah, I’m whining, right? You’re sitting there saying, “Grow up.” How about if I told you about the fact that I nearly took my own life?
So there I was, sitting on the side of my bed. I held a kitchen knife I had pocketed from the kitchen counter in my left hand. The phone rang. I heard a voice from downstairs yell, “Pick up the phone, it’s John!” I swore and picked up the phone. It turned out that John’s cousin had committed suicide. I saw myself doing the same thing, and in that instant, I dropped the knife and cried.
John spoke at his cousin’s funeral. “To others Dave was a father, he was a son, he was a brother, he was a nephew. But to me, he was a brother. Remember all the good times we had Dave. I’ll see you soon.” It was then I realized that each person, no matter how insignificant they may seem in this world of more than 6 billion other individuals, has an effect on every single one of us. To commit suicide, rather than being a community service, would cause an incredible amount of pain on so many others.
It’s not that I don’t think about suicide anymore. It’s just that after every episode, I think of the others.
this man is a legendig wrote:
i got a dui, and realized that i needed to make a lot of changes in my lifestyle. i haven't driven drunk since then. i enrolled in college and got a job. (i was selling weed to make money when i was younger) i never thought something so shitty could turn out to be so good for me.
me being on probation led me to playing bf2 all day, and i found you guys here too
I know, I can't do it justice though. I'm a terrible writer, and I haven't experienced depression of that grade quite yet.Varegg wrote:
Not bad for a short story haffey, but the real despair is lacking .... the total hopelessness seing no way out. Like the absence of what you where doing while working at the station, describe the feeling of people certainly being better of without you around them, like you don't really care what happened to the guy you paralyzed, the lack of emphasis for others seing as they apparantly have none for you ... the turning point with the other suicide i think is good, that may affect how you feel about things on the very edge of taking your own life - the wakeup call sort of coming during the speech at the funeral ... maybe elaborate a little more within the speech itself ...haffeysucks wrote:
Well, here it is. Short but rather strong I think. Credit goes out to all who posted, especially ATG, from whom I drew a lot of influence for the story from.The bus came to a stop. I got off, got the mail, walked down the driveway, and opened the front door. The headline of the Redding Pilot read: “Baghdad - 12 dead in car bomb attack; including 4 Americans”. I walked upstairs, did a couple problems of my math homework, and took a nap. I was awoken by a loud call of “Dinner!”, presumably by my mother. I trudged down the stairs, still groggy from sleep. The television was playing the nightly 7:00 PM news. The reporter spoke to the camera: “The casualties in Iraq continue to increase…” My aunt was apparently over for dinner, and she was watching the news with us. She sighed. “News nowadays is so bland. There’s nothing new for them to talk about, so they keep on droning on about the war. I’m sick and tired of reading and watching all this Iraq war news.” She turned the TV off.
After we finished our dinner, I excused myself and headed upstairs. And that’s when they started to overwhelm me. The feelings of hopelessness, of misery, of despair. You see, a month earlier I had lost my girlfriend. The day after, I got involved in a fight at school, and nearly killed another student. He wasn’t dead, but he was paralyzed from the waist down. I was suspended for a month. My mom got me a job at the local gas station. I filled tanks. One day, I made the simple mistake of choosing the wrong grade of gas, and took a verbal beating from my manager. Blah, blah, blah, I’m whining, right? You’re sitting there saying, “Grow up.” How about if I told you about the fact that I nearly took my own life?
So there I was, sitting on the side of my bed. I held a kitchen knife I had pocketed from the kitchen counter in my left hand. The phone rang. I heard a voice from downstairs yell, “Pick up the phone, it’s John!” I swore and picked up the phone. It turned out that John’s cousin had committed suicide. I saw myself doing the same thing, and in that instant, I dropped the knife and cried.
John spoke at his cousin’s funeral. “To others Dave was a father, he was a son, he was a brother, he was a nephew. But to me, he was a brother. Remember all the good times we had Dave. I’ll see you soon.” It was then I realized that each person, no matter how insignificant they may seem in this world of more than 6 billion other individuals, has an effect on every single one of us. To commit suicide, rather than being a community service, would cause an incredible amount of pain on so many others.
It’s not that I don’t think about suicide anymore. It’s just that after every episode, I think of the others.
A few minor tunings and this story is believeable
fixedMek-Izzle wrote:
this man is legendig wrote:
i got a dui, and realized that i needed to make a lot of changes in my lifestyle. i haven't driven drunk since then. i enrolled in college and got a job. (i was selling weed to make money when i was younger) i never thought something so shitty could turn out to be so good for me.
me being on probation led me to playing bf2 all day, and i found you guys here too